


Just Like Old Times

by LightDarkPheonix



Category: Elementary (TV), Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, I love her, Janine is awesome, John is an idiot, M/M, Post-The Sign of Three, Sibling Incest, Two emotionally constipated geniuses in love, Unrequited Love, seriously
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-03
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 01:42:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightDarkPheonix/pseuds/LightDarkPheonix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saw Sign of Three last night, and was thinking of what Mycroft said. How, after John and Mary married it would be just like old time.<br/>So I thought about how these two interact, while snarky and bitchy and wonderful, is a lot more like an old married couple when they're in private then how they dare to interact in public.<br/>Warnings: Incest, references to past drug abuse.<br/><strong>NOTE: While the main relationship in this story is an incestuous one, the relationship is 100% consensual on both sides. No non-con or dub-con or relationship inequalities. If incest triggers you, I'll restate the warning written earlier. I know that I don't like reading things that trigger me. To anyone who was hurt by the previous iteration of this note, I apologize profusely. I'm sorry if I hurt you with my badly judged attempt at humour.</strong></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shadows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aussiebrd23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aussiebrd23/gifts).



> _MYCROFT:Yes, what, Sherlock?_  
>  _SHERLOCK (walking through the reception room as he talks into his phone): Why are you out of breath?_  
>  _MYCROFT: Filing._  
>  _SHERLOCK: Either I’ve caught you in a compromising position or you’ve been working out again. I favour the latter._  
>  _MYCROFT: What do you want?_  
>  _SHERLOCK: I need your answer, Mycroft, as a matter of urgency._  
>  _MYCROFT: “Answer”?_  
>  _SHERLOCK: Even at the eleventh hour it’s not too late, you know._  
>  _MYCROFT (sighing): Oh, Lord._  
>  _SHERLOCK: Cars can be ordered, private jets commandeered._  
>  _MYCROFT: Today. It’s today, isn’t it? No, Sherlock, I will not be coming to the “night do”, as you so poetically put it._  
>  _SHERLOCK (insincerely): What a shame. Mary and John will be extremely d..._  
>  _MYCROFT: ... delighted not to have me hanging around._  
>  _SHERLOCK: Oh, I don’t know. There should always be a spectre at the feast._  
>  _MYCROFT (picking up a glass of juice from the table): So, this is it, then. The big day. (He sits down in an armchair.) I suppose I’ll be seeing a lot more of you from now on._  
>  _SHERLOCK: What do you mean?_  
>  _MYCROFT: Just like old times._  
>  _SHERLOCK: No, I don’t understand._  
>  _MYCROFT: Well, it’s the end of an era, isn’t it? John and Mary – domestic bliss._  
>  _SHERLOCK: No, no, no – I prefer to think of it as the beginning of a new chapter._  
>  _(Mycroft simply smiles.)_  
>  _SHERLOCK: What?_  
>  _MYCROFT: Nothing!_  
>  _SHERLOCK: I know that silence. What?_  
>  _MYCROFT: Well, I’d better let you get back to it. You have a big speech, or something, don’t you?_  
>  _SHERLOCK (still demanding an answer to his previous question): What?_  
>  _MYCROFT: Cake, karaoke ... mingling._  
>  _SHERLOCK (angrily): Mycroft!_  
>  _MYCROFT: This is what people do, Sherlock – they get married. I warned you: don’t get involved._  
>  _SHERLOCK: Involved? I’m not involved._  
>  _MYCROFT (disbelievingly): No._  
>  _SHERLOCK: John asked me to be his best man. How could I say no?_  
>  _MYCROFT (insincerely): Absolutely!_  
>  _SHERLOCK: I’m not involved!_  
>  _MYCROFT (insincerely): I believe you! Really, I do! Have a lovely day, and do give the happy couple my best._  
>  _SHERLOCK: I will._  
>  _-The Sign of Three_

* * *

 

Janine watched at Sherlock walked away. A pity, he was interesting, that one. It wasn’t everyday she met a man who she found interesting enough to actually interact with on a level other than platonic. She watched until he was just a shadow, and then smiled a little when she saw a second shadow join Sherlock. Another man, a few inches taller. She could fill in the details of what was going on, beyond where anyone at the party would bother looking. A tight hug, and what could have been a kiss.

Her smile widened as she remembered what Sherlock had said about loving to dance, as the two silhouettes started dancing to music that had obviously filtered out of the building to where the two were standing, just beyond the light. The sadness that Sherlock had masterfully hidden was obviously gone now, this mysterious man who Sherlock was dancing with obviously having done a good job of comforting him. They were evidently together, and Janine squashed the little bit of jealousy she felt.

After all, who was she to deny Sherlock Holmes happiness, after everything the world had done to him?


	2. Dancing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The brothers dance on the edge of the light, once more the two of them against the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if I'll continue doing the quotes from episodes or not. What do you think?

 

> _MYCROFT: Quite the busy little bee. (He chuckles.)_
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Moriarty’s network – took me two years to dismantle it._
> 
> _MYCROFT: And you’re confident you have?_
> 
> _SHERLOCK: The Serbian side was the last piece of the puzzle._
> 
> _MYCROFT: Yes. You got yourself in deep there ... (he checks his report) ... with Baron Maupertuis. Quite a scheme._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Colossal._
> 
> _MYCROFT (shutting the file): Anyway, you’re safe now._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Hmm._
> 
> _MYCROFT: A small ‘thank you’ wouldn’t go amiss._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: What for?_
> 
> _MYCROFT: For wading in._
> 
> _(Sherlock raises a hand to the barber to make him stop shaving him. The man steps back a little.)_
> 
> _MYCROFT: In case you’d forgotten, fieldwork is not my natural milieu._
> 
> _(Grunting in pain, Sherlock sits up and looks at his brother angrily.)_
> 
> _SHERLOCK: “Wading in”? You sat there and watched me being beaten to a pulp._
> 
> _MYCROFT (frowning indignantly): I got you out._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: No – I got me out. Why didn’t you intervene sooner?_
> 
> _MYCROFT: Well, I couldn’t risk giving myself away, could I? It would have ruined everything._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: You were enjoying it._
> 
> _MYCROFT: Nonsense._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Definitely enjoying it._
> 
> _MYCROFT (leaning forward): Listen: do you have any idea what it was like, Sherlock, going ‘under cover’, smuggling my way into their ranks like that? The noise; the people?_
> 
> _(He sits back. Sherlock painfully sinks back to lie down in the chair again. The barber resumes his work.)_
> 
> _SHERLOCK: I didn’t know you spoke Serbian._
> 
> _MYCROFT: I didn’t, but the language has a Slavic root, frequent Turkish and German loan words. (He shrugs.) Took me a couple of hours._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Hmm – you’re slipping._
> 
> _MYCROFT (smiling tightly): Middle age, brother mine. Comes to us all._

* * *

 

Unaware of the lone pair of eyes watching them, the two men embraced tightly, one taking comfort, the other giving it. “I warned you,” the elder whispered, carding his fingers through dark curls.

The younger sighed, pressing himself tighter against his brother. “I know. Too little too late, I suppose, and I can’t control who I fall in love with.” The last part of that is a sigh, barely audible, but Mycroft stiffened regardless. Realizing this, Sherlock hugged him tighter. “Never like I love you, My.”

Mycroft relaxed, a breath out seeming almost to deflate him. “I don’t like seeing you hurt,” he whispered, instead of acknowledging his momentary jealousy, or the fear that maybe someday Sherlock would find someone more deserving of him than his socially constipated older brother.

Sherlock pressed a hard kiss against Mycroft’s mouth, moving his hands so he is gripping the man’s head. “If there’s anything that life has taught me well, sometimes pain is worth it.” I waited years for you, My, you know that. And it hurt, every second in fear that you would be disgusted by me.

Mycroft swallowed, before nodding in response to Sherlock’s unspoken words. Shifting their positions so that they would have been dancing, had they not been completely unmoving, Mycroft said, “You could never disgust me, Sherl. Never. You know that.” I didn’t want to hurt you, didn’t want to give you another reason to hate me. Didn’t want to violate you.

To his brother’s surprise, Sherlock started dancing to the faint strains of music coming from the reception, dragging Mycroft along with him. Not that the government official was a bad dancer. Quite the opposite, actually, it was just that he was used to leading. Shaking his head slightly, he grinned, knowing Sherlock would see despite the darkness.

“I wanted it. I would never have hated you for giving me what I wanted.” With that, the two danced, occasionally switching positions. Alone, together, off to the side from everyone else. Just like old times.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Insecure!Mycroft is adorable, don't you think?


	3. Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An american cop learns a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief crossover, because I like the idea of Gregson and Lestrade together (don't ask).  
> Spoilers for season 1 of Elementary.

> _SHERLOCK: I’ve never even heard him say his name._
> 
> _MARY: Well, he’s almost a recluse – you know, since ..._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Yes._
> 
> _MARY: I didn’t think he’d show up at all. John says he’s the most unsociable man he’s ever met._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: He is? He’s the most unsociable?_
> 
> _MARY: Mm._
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Ah, that’s why he’s bouncing round him like a puppy._
> 
> _(Mary grins and hugs his arm.)_
> 
> _MARY: Oh, Sherlock! Neither of us were the first, you know._
> 
> _(He looks round at her.)_
> 
> _SHERLOCK: Stop smiling._
> 
> _MARY: It’s my wedding day!_
> 
> _(Rolling his eyes, Sherlock pulls free and walks away. She takes another drink from her wine glass, then pulls a face.)_
> 
>  

* * *

Tommy had come as Greg’s plus one, and both had been wondering whether or not London’s Sherlock would figure it out. He hadn’t, the only time he had even mentioned Lestrade was when he mentioned how easy it would be to kill him (which, to be honest, annoyed Tommy a lot, as if he’d let the younger man die on him). The two of them had concluded that the poor guy must have been overly distracted by John’s nuptials to be any good at anything other than solving the case he had (rather dramatically, what with all that flailing) solved.

Greg had dragged Tommy onto the floor to dance once, but both had stopped when they noticed Sherlock slipping out right after he played the violin for John and Mary. He must have noticed the two of them following him because he vanished, the last either of them saw of him being a swirl of a dark Belstaff coat.

Greg sighed, sitting at one of chairs that had been pushed off to the side. “Does your Sherlock do that?” he asked. His Lestrade, a distant cousin of the Lestrade Tommy had met in the aftermath of 9/11, had a very different relationship with the Sherlock Holmes he interacted with than the one Tommy had with his. London’s Sherlock seemed to view Greg as a sort of replacement father/elder brother, while Joan’s Sherlock respected Tommy but was more of a close friend, the role of caretaker having been taken by his partner.

Tommy snorted. “You mean run off from social gatherings, or run from his emotions? Definitely the second one. He thrives in social settings, though you might find that astonishing.” Thank god Marcus and Sherlock were happy together. The idea of what would happen if Sherlock lost him... Tommy suppressed a shudder at the thought. “Y’know, when you told me about John, I thought the two of them would get together. Guess I was wrong.”

Greg shrugged. “Death changes people, I guess. Mary... she saved John’s life, just as Sherlock did. The only reason I’m not flying into righteous rage at the two of them is... well...” to Tommy’s surprise, Greg dragged him outside. They were near enough to the party that the light from it was still enough for them to see shapes, but not much else. Greg’s tone was low as he spoke. “Sherlock’s with someone else, romantically I mean. Has been since years before I met him.”

Tommy raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Oh?”

The Detective Inspector pointed into the darkness, just beyond where the pool of light reached. Two shadows were dancing, one apparently Sherlock, the other’s identity hidden. Then, a flash of red hair, illuminated temporarily as they crossed for a few seconds into the light. And a voice, to low to understand but loud enough to hear the tonality. “Is that his brother?” Tommy asks, because he sounds like Sherlock but deeper.

Greg nodded, and Tommy thinks on it for a second, realizing he has been entrusted with a secret that possibly even John doesn’t know. “I found out because Sherlock was screaming his brother’s name in his sleep, apparently nightmares of finding the man dead was what drove the poor sod to be a junkie in the first place.”

Perhaps London’s Sherlock and Joan’s Sherlock weren’t as different as Tommy had thought then, considering from what he had gathered Sherlock’s belief that Janie Moriarty (“Irene Adler”) was dead was what had driven him to the gutter. And, surprisingly, Tommy wasn’t immediately disgusted by the fact that this Sherlock was in a relationship with his brother. “The two of them against the world then?”

Greg nodded again. “I was the first person to make it past Sherlock’s mask than Mycroft. I was worried, when John slipped through so easily, but I’m glad Mycroft’s here for Sherlock. The years he spent dead weren’t easy.”

Tommy sighed. “I’m glad we’re not like them. You’d think I’d be jealous of their minds, but they must be so alone.”

Greg sighed. “Why do you think I stick with them, despite how infuriating they may be? John will be leaving them, soon, and sometimes just like old times isn’t a good thing.”

Both of them froze when Sherlock said, voice cutting through the darkness, “Your concern is admirable Gregory, but I will be alright.”

Greg smiled. Of course now would be the time Sherlock would remember his name. “I know you will be, doesn’t stop me from being concerned.” Turning to Mycroft, whose features were still shadowed, he said, “My warning stands.”  
The shadow nodded curtly. “I swear that I would rather kill myself, genuinely kill myself, then willfully hurt Sherlock.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “So sentimental, My.”

“It’s the night of a wedding, brother dear.” Mycroft stepped out into the light, extending a hand to Tommy. “Captain Gregson of the NYPD, good of you to fly out here for the DI’s sake. You are married to him, I percieve.”

Tommy, used to being deduced by now, grabbed the hand and nodded. “Would move here, but, you know,” he shrugged. Mycroft nodded.

“Take care of your Sherlock, Thomas.” With that, the two Holmes repeated the same disappearing act Sherlock had pulled earlier, footsteps fading into the darkness.

“The two of them will be alright,” Greg said, and Tommy pulled him into a hug.

“When I retire, I’m moving to London, okay?”

Greg smiled, and kissed Tommy hard. “Us Englishmen are so wonderful, aren’t we?”

Tommy rolled his eyes as they walked back into the reception, arms around each other like the old married couple they were. “Apparently.”

 


End file.
